


Never Enough

by WestCoastSeabee



Series: Never Enough [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, M/M, Navy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestCoastSeabee/pseuds/WestCoastSeabee
Summary: We know that Spencer was already Doctor Reid at least once over by the time he was 18 yet he didn't join the FBI until he was 22. What did he do for those years in between school and becoming a profiler?
Series: Never Enough [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703209
Comments: 39
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be an eventual cross over with NCIS.
> 
> A huge thanks to my amazing Beta, KnightBlade. This was written over a year ago and I'm just now realizing I should probably finish and post it!

May 2000  
CalTech Campus  
Pasadena, California

Spencer smiled broadly as the long hood was draped over his head and attached to his robes as a sign of his status as Spencer Reid, PhD. It had been a long journey to this point and he was glad that it was over. Oh, he enjoyed studying and academia, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do forever. Despite loving paperwork and research, he was still very much a teenager who also enjoyed physical activities. 

Therein lay the problem. He had finished all of the degrees he had planned on doing and still had no clue what he really wanted to do. He recalled that song that had come out last year and was still incredibly popular...something, something, wear sunscreen, something, “Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life…” He felt guilty though. He had worked so incredibly hard to get to this point that he hadn’t thought about what would happen after he reached it. He had nothing tying him down. His heart ached at that, having had his mother committed to Bennington in the last year, he had no one and nothing to stop him from doing anything. He knew that countless doors were open to him but he didn’t know through which one to walk.

He lost himself in his thoughts as the other newly minted PhDs were hooded. All too quickly, the ceremony was concluding and the happy doctors were being surrounded by family and friends. Smiling at his classmates, Spencer allowed himself to be buoyed by the happiness of the day as he made his way out of the auditorium. Feeling the bright California sunshine bathing his skin, he looked around, as if he was seeing the campus for the first time. It looked familiar but it wasn’t home. For 6 years it had been and suddenly, suddenly it was nothing more than where he had been. He shook his head, maudlin thoughts had no place in this day of celebration. 

Stripping off his cap, gown, and hood, he balled them up as he strode across campus to his apartment. He would need to leave soon, it was a campus owned apartment. As he had agreed to teach a summer session though, he wouldn’t need to vacate until August. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to find someplace before then, especially as his class ended in early July. Perhaps by then he will have decided what he wanted to do with his life. As he walked he thought about what he could do; another degree? Teach? Professional gambler? He laughed at himself, now he was just being ridiculous. Growing up a genius in Vegas didn’t guarantee gambling abilities. Maybe he should call that FBI agent, Gideon, back about his offer? No, he was far too young to join the FBI. He might consider the idea in a few years, maybe. 

As he walked he noticed that he was passing by the strip mall that held his favorite Chinese take out restaurant. Deciding that it would be fun to celebrate his graduation with such a meal, he veered off the sidewalk towards the restaurant. As he entered, he noticed that they were far more crowded than usual. Still, he was instantly recognized by the young woman working behind the counter and when he nodded in acceptance of his usual order, she said it would be about an hour. He smiled and stepped out of the crowded space to wait. He idly walked up and down the strip, window shopping at the dollar store and liquor store before pausing before the final door. 

This was a relatively new tenant, a military recruiting office. He noticed that there were a few people in uniform casually sitting behind desks. Shrugging his shoulders he walked in, letting the tinkling of the bell overhead announce his presence. 

A young man in a white uniform that Spencer recalled being labelled ‘cracker jacks’, not sure whether it was because they were what was emblazoned on the box of the popcorn snack mix or if the snack mix was so called because of the uniform. He would have to look into that as he was suddenly curious about the answer. He turned his attention to the man who had just introduced himself. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. Could you please repeat that?”

“Sure, I’m Gunners Mate Second Class Willie Brown. Call me Guns. Are you thinking about enlisting in the Navy?”

Spencer was taken aback, he had never actually thought about military service. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, something brought you in here. Do you want adventure? Do you want to see the world?”

He nodded, it sounded intriguing. He had only ever spent time in Nevada, California, and a few brief months in Massachusetts as he did research at MIT for a semester. “I have always wanted to travel.”

GM2 grinned, “Then the Navy is perfect for you. Tell me, are you 18? Have you graduated from high school yet?”

Spencer laughed, “Yes, I am 18. And I just came from my graduation.” He held up the wadded cap and gown that he had tucked under his arm. “Spencer Reid, PhD. It is a pleasure to meet you Guns.”

The young petty officer’s eyes grew wide. “PhD? You’re a doctor?”

“Yup,” Spencer said, letting the p sound pop. 

“Maybe you should talk to my boss.” The recruiter looked nervously over his shoulder where there was another, slightly older man, wearing a different white uniform. “Lieutenant, I think that you should come here…”

The man, the lieutenant, looked up with a slightly annoyed look on his face. “What do you need, GM2? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sir, I really think that you should be talking with this recruit,” he pressed. 

With a huff, the lieutenant stood and ran a hand down the front of his uniform, adjusting the ribbons on his left breast and belt buckle so that they were just so. “Lieutenant Daniels, how can I help you?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not sure how you can help me. I came in here out of curiosity and was just told that the Navy can show me the world,” Spencer said extending his hand to shake.

The officer standing before Spencer didn’t hold out his to shake it, rather gave him a cursory look and found himself unimpressed. “Doctor Reid, you say? Interesting first name there.” Turning away from Spencer, LT Daniels focused his attention on his shipmate. “And what seems to be the problem? This young man wants to join, you know how to do the paperwork.”

Annoyed at having been dismissed outright, Spencer himself spoke up before the sailor. “Spencer is actually a rather common first name. Well, relatively speaking. At its most popular in 1998, 4,619 boys were named Spencer,” he said brightly. “While nowhere near as popular as other names such as Michael or Jacob in that same year with approximately 36,000 boys being named each, respectively.”

“Uh, right. So Doctor isn’t your first name?” the man said, trying to hold back his confusion.

“No, Spencer is my first name. I just completed a PhD and thus am entitled to use the title of Doctor,” he said in reply.

The officer’s eyes lit up at this admission. He took a longer look at the young man before him. This skinny guy was a doctor? At least now he understood why the Petty Officer had called him over. “Well why didn’t you say so? Come on back here to my desk and we can talk about how the Navy can show you the world.”

Spencer let himself be led to the back of the room, to the desk at which the officer had originally been sitting. After being settled down across from each other, the two men began talking.

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but before he knew it, he was filling out forms and signing documents. “This all feels kind of rushed. I’m not being sent off to bootcamp tomorrow, am I? I have responsibilities….”

“Oh, no, no! You are just submitting your application right now! You still need to be accepted. We should know in about a month or two whether or not your application has been accepted. You still need to get me copies of your school transcripts and several letters of recommendation.”

Spencer nodded. “I’ll bring them by later this week.” He glanced down at his watch noting that his food should be ready by now. “I, uh, need to go now. Thank you.” 

He stood, grabbing the bundle of clothes from the floor where he had set it during the paperwork, and left to get his lunch. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but he had a feeling that things were going to be very different from here on out.

6 Months Later

As he lowered his right hand, Spencer was struck with an odd sense of deja vu. Just a few short months ago he had been at his final CalTech graduation. This time, unlike at CalTech, he didn’t feel as though he was at loose ends. He felt like he had a purpose. He slipped his fingers into the pocket of his uniform to feel the piece of paper it held. He didn’t need to see the paper, he had already committed to memory exactly what it said: USS SAMUEL B. ROBERTS (FFG 58) NOB Norfolk, Virginia. 

This was the start of something big, something grand and wonderful. Something that would inevitably change the rest of his life. He was an Ensign in the greatest Navy in the world. He just hoped that he didn’t get seasick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there are going to be a couple of chapters that will have a lot of background. I promise that it will get far more exciting soon!

February 2001  
Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean  
USS SAMUEL B ROBERTS (FFG 58)

Spencer lay on the slightly lumpy mattress of his bed, his rack he mentally corrected, and stared at the pipes mere inches from his face. If the view wasn’t enough to remind him where he was, the pervasive smell of oil, sweat, and saltwater as well as the gentle motion prevented him from thinking that he could be any place but on a ship out at sea. For the moment, everything was as quiet as it could be. If he listened closely he could hear the hum of the engine, and a light buzz from the light outside of the small curtain he had closed around his rack. This was the first time that the white noise and the gentle motion of shipboard life wasn’t rocking him to a blissful, if too short, sleep. He was wired, agitated, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Idly, he thought back to how he had gotten to this position in the first place. When he had first talked to the recruiter, it had sparked something inside of himself that he still didn’t quite understand. Sure, he had been restless after 6 years in California, but why had he joined the military rather than doing the logical thing and taking a year or so off to backpack through Europe or well, anything else? It seemed like he hadn’t really seen much of the world than Newport, Rhode Island and Norfolk Virginia since leaving California. Ok, if he was being completely honest he hadn’t seen much beyond Newport, Norfolk, and the middle of the frakking ocean! 

He inhaled sharply, he was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There was literally nothing around for hundreds of miles in any direction. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring simultaneously. Really, those same words could describe his time in the military thus far. Three months of Officer Candidate School (OCS) and 4 months of Surface Warfare Officer Division Officer Course (SWOSDOC) did not prepare him or anyone for actually being on a warship. Even visiting some of the ships that were homeported in Newport, RI as part of the classes did nothing but terrify Spencer. When his class finally had ship selection, Spencer was thrilled that his first ship was a frigate. Compared to most ships in the fleet, it was very small but for him, it was huge and intimidating, a seemingly endless labyrinth of pipes, wires, and metal beams.

Arriving alone to Virginia with not much more than a couple of sea bags with all of his worldly possessions, he quickly found that life outside of academia was difficult. He hadn’t thought about how many special concessions had been made for him for his age while he had been at CalTech, from having his own room because he was a minor to the personalized curriculum given to him due to his ability to test out of so many classes. 

He hadn’t expected nor had he received any particular consideration during OCS or SWOSDOC. He was used to being the object of attention in some fashion, whether it was surprise at seeing a young teen walking into a graduate level class or jealousy and anger when he inevitably did better than his much older classmates on exams. On the ship and even out in town, he was just another sailor. A nameless face in the crowd. The freedom of anonymity was somewhat intoxicating. 

It was also incredibly lonely. He hadn’t noticed how alone he was when going through OCS because the class was required to do pretty much everything together. When they finally graduated and commissioned, he slid smoothly into SWOSDOC and concentrated so hard on doing well in the classes that he hadn’t noticed how few friends he was making amongst the other Surface Warfare Officers (SWOs). Other than finding himself very much alone at times since he wasn’t old enough to go out to the bars and party with his classmates, he hadn’t seen a large change from his last few months at school. Now though it was an odd feeling to be so invisible and alone. The other young junior officers on the ship were still a good 3-4 years older than him and wanted to go out and enjoy the nightlife scene such as it was in Norfolk. The ones that weren’t were the ones that had married young, some within a week of graduating college, and had families to which to rush home. His age kept him from really bonding with his peers. 

His age also made his job significantly more difficult than he thought it should be. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, but it was virtually impossible for his division to take him seriously when he was the same age as some of the most junior sailors. Even his lead petty officer, LPO, was old enough to be his father. He shuddered lightly as he remembered his first day as 1st Lieutenant, the officer in charge of deck division on the ship. He has been shown to the small closet that held the desk he would be using and then left alone while the current 1st Lieutenant went to get the division chief. While waiting, he had bent over the chair to start flipping through the log books on the desk. The next thing he knew, a large hand was smacking him squarely across the ass.

“Welcome to the jungle, boy!” boomed a voice in concert with the smack. “If you want to be a bosun’s mate you damn well better get that ass in gear and report to your LPO. If I ever catch you at the LT’s desk looking at his stuff again you are gonna be one unhappy camper. Now get the fuck outta here!”

At the smack, Spencer had stood straight up, staring ahead at the wall. Quickly running down the scenarios, he realized that whoever this was didn’t know that he was the new division officer. A glance down at his clothes confirmed that it would be pretty easy to mistake him for a young sailor shirking his duties. Not only was he young and skinny looking, but the black jacket he wore was a bit too large on him and covered the khaki belt around his waist, the only way that someone from the back could tell the difference between the leadership, the officers and chiefs, and the junior enlisted when wearing coveralls. 

“Are you gonna just stand there, boy? Are you some kind of fucking idiot?” the voice continued, closer now. Spencer could feel the hot breath against the back of his neck and could smell the stale cigarettes and acrid sweat clinging to the body behind him. 

Slowly, Spencer spoke in a measured tone. “I most certainly am not some kind of fucking idiot,” he started before being interrupted again, this time the voice was accompanied by a vicelike grip pulling the back of his sweater and coveralls up, a surprising feat given how tall Spencer was.

The hand pulled him back and growled in his ear, “That is some disrespect there, boy. Didn’t they teach you nothing at…” The voice trailed off before the thought was complete, the hand loosened its grip and he stumbled with the sudden change in force.

“Shit, Ensign,” the voice said, a touch of anger still ringing. “Why didn’t you say nothing? I’ve got a lazy, good for nothing fuckin’ new guy roaming about this ship and no one can seem to track him down. You shoulda said who you are!”

Turning around and adjusting his sweater which had slipped low enough to let his collar and the gold bars of his rank show when he had been grabbed, Spencer calmly said. “Well, I am not that lazy, good for nothing fucking new guy. Ensign Spencer Reid, and you are?”

“You’re the new first! Shit, I’m sorry, Sir. Chief Bosun’s Mate Chris Warren,” there didn’t appear to be much apology to the tone of voice, but Spencer was willing to overlook it for the moment. “Call me Boats. Imma be the one to make sure you don’t do nothing stupid.”

Spencer almost grinned at that statement. He had heard a lot about how important the relationship was between a junior officer and his chief. He wasn’t sure how well he and Boats would get alone, but it was bound to be an interesting tour with him. Biting down some words he wat “Well thank you for the warm welcome to the, how did you put it? Jungle?”

The smile that bloomed on the man’s face could only be described as predatory, “Damn straight, sir. You won’t find no division better than Deck here on the Sammy B. Work hard and play harder is our way. Are you up for it?” There was a pause while Boats seemed to take a closer look at Spencer. “If you don’t mind me asking, you don’t look near old enough to play.. How old are you?”

Straightening slightly, Spencer gritted his teeth, “I’m old enough to be here according to the Navy. Is that a problem?”

“No, no, not at all. Just wanna let you know that I’m not gonna be the first to mistake you for some seaman. You academy?”

“No, OCS. Is that a problem?”

“Aw hell no! I’m glad to hear it. Too many of them academy boys comin’ here thinking their shit don’t stink.”

A sudden burst of static over the shipwide intercom, the 1MC as it was called, broke Spencer from his reminiscing. Boats had certainly been entertaining and educational. He was also not the last person to think that Spencer wasn’t who he was. He had been stopped several times by MPs on base for parking in an officer space or even while in uniform for impersonating an officer. Frustrating didn’t begin to describe it. 

Outside of work, he was still trying to get his footing. As an officer he was afforded the privilege of living off the ship and base. He had taken advantage of that and found a small apartment a few miles off base. It really wasn’t much as he still spent most of his money on ensuring his mother’s care, but it was something and someplace that was all his own. He was a long way from that apartment right now though. The room that he was in was shared with 5 other young men, all officers on the ship. 

Being the youngest and newest, he was given the highest rack. It wasn’t so bad in that he never had to worry about someone stepping on his bed, but it also meant that he had no room to sit up in bed and had to be the one to bother his shipmates when attempting to crawl into his rack to sleep. It was also incredibly cold. There was an air conditioning vent that opened directly into his small space and the smooth metal of the wall certainly wasn’t conducting a lot of heat. After the first night on the ship with nothing but the thin blanket he was issued, he left work the next day and went to the exchange to get a thick, insulated sleeping bag. 

Snug and as warm as he could hope to be in said sleeping bag, Spencer still couldn’t pinpoint why he wasn’t sleeping. It had been an exhausting day. They had gotten underway a few days earlier and the days at sea were incredibly long. Not only did he have his usual work in keeping the ship in ship shape, but he now had to stand watches, learn how to ‘drive’ the ship, and generally everything else possible about the ship, her crew, and what it meant to be a SWO. It was a non-stop cycle that was intense mentally, physically, and emotionally. Even now, when the long day was over he just couldn’t shut his mind off. 

With a groan, he wiggled ineffectively to find a more comfortable position on the mattress and squeezed his eyes shut. His alarm would be going off in just a couple of hours and the cycle of watches, studying, and work would begin again. It was, he noted absently, the happiest he could ever recall being. 

His rack curtain was suddenly pulled back, flooding his eyes with the bright red light kept on during night hours all around the ship. “XO wants you up on the bridge. Move it, Reid!”

For once grateful that he hadn’t actually succumbed to sleep, Spencer blinked blindly and groaned, a new day of fun was already starting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how long it has been! The past few months have been...wacky. Yes, let's say wacky. I hope to get on a better schedule for updates for this story. As always, an incredible thank you to my AMAZING Beta!!
> 
> Enjoy

April 2001  
Norfolk, VA  
Old Dominion University

“And so we are forced to ask ourselves yet again, what drives these killers?” The large, greying man at the front of the room had the entire audience enthralled. Images of dead bodies, crime scenes, and weapons danced through the projector. Spencer, sitting near the back of the lecture hall was no less enthralled than everyone else despite his eidetic memory and having attended this same lecture just 18 months ago at CalTech.

A sudden gust of air broke the spell on Spencer. He looked back to the doors, assuming correctly that they were the source. He saw a young man edging into the auditorium. Based on the wet jacket and dripping umbrella clenched in his hand, it must have started to rain which probably resulted in his running late. Spencer’s attention was now fully focused on this man as he decided to put into practice what Gideon had taught him.

Clinically, Spencer began to profile the new audience member. He was of average height, slightly overweight but not obese. He is caucasian with brown, maybe dark blond hair. He seemed relatively young, early to mid 20s, Spencer estimated. 

The clothes were nice but not high end. The man seemed comfortable in them but fidgety and nervous overall. A slight hunch and his gaze, remaining firmly fixed to the ground had Spencer deciding that he was timid, perhaps a bit henpecked? No ring visible so probably single. Not likely in a position of leadership given the nervous tendencies. Pale skin meant that he probably worked inside, likely at a computer or laboratory. Not a student and definitely not a grad student. His slacks and button-down were far too formal and too obviously a remnant of the workday that he had yet to shed for the day. No, this young man was a professional in the area. Perhaps he worked for the university?

By this point, Spencer was blatantly staring. The man must have felt the weight of his gaze for when he did look up, it wasn’t to focus on Gideon at the front of the room but to lock eyes with Spencer.

Spencer spun around quickly, embarrassed to have gotten caught staring at the latecomer. He forced himself to focus on the lecture rather than the man who had sat down behind him. It was easy to fall back under the spell of Gideon’s presentation. The man was a natural showman. Even more than that, this was THE SSA Jason Gideon! He and SSA David Rossi had practically invented criminal profiling. Spencer would be silly to miss out on any opportunity to listen to and ask questions of the best of the best. It didn’t matter that the two men had kept up a lively correspondence since he had met the agent a few years earlier at a similar lecture at Cal Tech. Despite the repetition, the topic was interesting and Spencer hoped to pick Gideon’s brain about some of the answers he had given in his most recent letter.

As Gideon finished his presentation, opening the floor for questions, several people began to make their way to the door, eager to get home. Spencer and the mystery man behind him stayed firmly seated as questions were asked. It should not have surprised him as much as it did, but Spencer was startled when the man behind him began to speak, asking a question regarding the reliability of technology in the field.

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Spencer turned in his seat until he was facing the young man again. The question that had just been posed was one that Spencer himself had been itching to ask and he was somewhat irritated that it had been asked before he had the opportunity. The man, now that he had dried out a bit, was rather fascinating. His hair as it turns out was a very fine and sandy brown. He would bet turned into an ashy blonde during the summer days. His eyes were less green than he had originally thought but more of a hazel that changed colors depending on how the light was catching them.

Without meaning to do so, Spencer picked up on the profiling he had started earlier. He didn’t have the haircut or body language of someone in the military, but his vocabulary indicated that he had spent a considerable amount of time around those in the military. The more he spoke, the more intrigued Spencer became.

When the man paused to await Gideon’s answer, he finally acknowledged that he was being watched by Spencer. He gave a shy, uncertain smile and flicked gaze back to Gideon. Spencer continued, chastised by the reminder that he was here for the lecture and not to stare at the other attendees. He did resolve to speak with the man after this was over.

When no more questions were forthcoming, Gideon remained at the podium to organize his papers while those who had remained started gathering their jackets and umbrellas to brave the weather again.

“Excuse me,” Spencer started, deciding that he had to break the ice with the man after some frankly awkward interaction. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I wanted to thank you for asking the question in there. I had a similar one in mind when you spoke up.”

“Timothy McGee, call me Tim,” the man replied with a smile. “I’m sorry if I poached your question. I’ve just always been fascinated by how technology and its role in criminal activities. It is partially why I have the job that I do.”

Spencer perked up at that, “Call me Spencer. What do you do that would let you explore that?”

“I’m an agent for NCIS which is,” Tim began.

“Naval Criminal Investigative Service,” they finished together.

“You’ve heard of us?” Tim said, surprised. “Not many people know what that is.”

“I have,” Spencer said, not elaborating on the hows and whys. For some reason, he didn’t want to let the man before him know that he was in the Navy and that is how and why he had heard of NCIS. 

Spencer preened internally. His off the cuff profiling of the man was spot on. He was a young professional, working mainly in an office, and spent considerable time around the military, but not in it. That didn’t tell the whole story though and he suddenly found himself eager to learn that full story. He had the bones to the profile, but he wanted to flesh it out, learn as much as he could.

Tim seemed surprised when Spencer didn’t elaborate about his knowledge of NCIS, but could tell that Spencer didn’t really want to talk about the subject. Still, he was curious about the young man who obviously shared an interest in law enforcement and psychology. “Um, I know the weather is awful, but I was going to grab a cup of coffee at the student center before heading home. Did you want to grab a cup?”

Spencer only hesitated a split second, a quick glance back to where Gideon was still holding court with several other attendees. He would give Gideon a call the next day he decided. “Sounds good. Do you know how to get there? I’m afraid I’m not that familiar with the campus.”

Tim smiled and nodded at Spencer. “Yeah, it isn’t too far from here. Come on.”

Grabbing his coat, Spencer returned the grin, “Lay on, Macduff!”


	4. Chapter 4

July 7, 2001

Norfolk, VA

Tim’s apartment

Everything hurt, everything. Spencer didn’t think it was possible for every cell in his body to be screaming simultaneously in outrage for whatever foolish thing he had done before falling asleep. Yet he was being proven very, very wrong this morning. Afternoon? Night? 

He could tell that it was daytime by the warm sun that was streaming through the thin curtain. The smell of coffee hanging in the air suggested morning and made his stomach roll unpleasantly. He cracked open an eyelid and saw Tim sitting on a chair at the foot of the couch, a steaming cup in his hand the obvious source of the aroma.

Tim was watching Spencer slowly stir with a mixture of amusement and compassion. “Still with me, Spence?”

“Ugh, maybe?”

Tim’s laughter caused the pounding in Spencer’s head to increase exponentially. At least, it felt that way to him. “What happened?”

“What happened is that you had a little too much fun yesterday.”

“I did?”

Shaking his head Tim muttered, “For a genius you sure can be an idiot. Try to remember; we were doing pizza and a Star Wars marathon and you somehow convinced me that you could handle your beer,” he snorted. “Drink like a sailor my ass.”

Spencer closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing headache to sift through the memories of the previous night. “I told you about my deployment, right?” Cracking one eye open slightly, he saw Tim nod. “And then something happened and I got so excited that I drank a lot?”

“Getting warmer,” Tim said.

Happy that he wasn’t completely off the mark, Spencer tried to focus more on piecing together the memory, hangover be damned. It started coming to him in bits and pieces.

_**The previous night** _

“Deployment?” Tim said taking a deep sip of his drink. “That sucks.”

“Mmm,” Spencer replied absently as he scrolled through the menus of the DVD, searching for the special features. “It does. It really sucks because I don’t think I can keep my apartment while I’m gone.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it is taking longer than I expected to get my mother listed as my dependent and her care is more expensive than I thought it would be even with insurance. I need to save as much money as I can while I’m gone so that I can afford it.”

“So you are doing what, putting your stuff in storage and living on the ship?”

Sighing, Spencer looked down into his beer. “Yeah, I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Norfolk is cheap but not cheap enough I guess. I’m just worried that if I do live on the ship after deployment that I’m going to lose my housing allowance.” Spencer took a long sip from his drink and looked at his friend, “I don’t think I can afford to lose that money but I can’t afford to live off ship either. I just don’t know what to do at this point.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking but Tim looked up at Spencer and before he could stop himself said “You could live here.”

“What?”

“You could stay here. I’ve got a two bedroom apartment, we would need to share a bathroom but you could stay here. If we split the rent and utilities it would be about as much as renting a storage unit and you wouldn’t need to worry about losing your housing allowance while deployed.”

Spencer stared at Tim, “Are you serious? Do you really mean that?”

“Sure,” Tim shrugged. “You spend so much time over here you might as well move in.”

He considered his friend’s words. It was true. Ever since they met at Gideon’s lecture a few months ago the two were practically inseparable. Sure, their friendship had hit a few rocky patches, particularly when Spencer finally told Tim that he was in the Navy. It wasn’t that he was trying to hide it, but he didn’t want there to be any sort of conflict for his friend, whose job was to essentially police the Navy. That fight had not lasted long and they had continued to spend all of their off work hours hanging out. That consisted of everything from gaming to binge watching the Star Trek DVDs that Tim had collected. Really, given the number of nights that Spencer had crashed at Tim’s, it was a wonder they hadn’t considered this before.

Spencer whooped with glee, pulling Tim into a tight bear hug. “You are amazing. I think we should drink to this!” He drained his current beer, ran into the kitchen and brought back the tequila that Tim kept on top of the refrigerator. 

“To friends and roommates!” Spencer said handing a glass with a generous slug of tequila in the bottom.

“To friends and roommates,” Tim echoed as he watched Spencer down a much larger shot of alcohol before pouring himself another equally generous shot and downing it quickly.

A gentle cough brought Spencer out of his memories. It would not have mattered, there wasn’t much more to them, it was all a haze, even the movies. 

“Anything?”

Spencer gave Tim a small grin, “To friends and roommates?”

The smile on Tim’s face grew even wider in relief and excitement, “Still think it is ‘fucking brilliant’ as you so eloquently put it after your 4th shot of tequila?”

“Yes,” the answer was immediate. “Why didn’t we think of this before? It would have been saving both of us a lot of money.”

Tim just shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter now?”

“No, now we just need to worry about the big stuff like, when can I move in?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLUF: I haven't abandoned this story!  
> I, like most, have had a wild 2020 and have now come into 2021 wanting nothing more than for life to settle down so I can keep writing and posting! My 2020 consisted of returning from deployment, having my husband lose his job and start a new one, getting mobilized to support the military's COVID response, moving, quitting my job, starting a new job, having my husband quit his job and start a new one...did I forget any craziness? I really want 2021 to be a quieter year! 
> 
> Enjoy and know that I really am working on this! Also, please don't hold any mistakes against my Beta, Knightblade. I kind of rewrote part of this after she had already done an amazing job making my writing readable. Mea culpa, Ma'am!

September 11, 2001  
Off the coast of Virginia  
USS SAMUEL B ROBERTS (FFG 58)

Spencer was very impressed with himself. He had gotten a full 3 hours of sleep last night. Between standing the mid-watch, a full day of work, and several hours working on his qualification standards, he had finally managed to crawl into his rack around 0230. The sun was just breaking over the horizon now and he was heading towards the flight deck to get some fresh air before heading back to his tiny little desk in a corner. Duty days were always incredibly rough, even when not underway. On days when he didn’t have duty he could usually make his way home at a reasonable time. He tried to stick around for a couple of hours after his work was done so that he could work on his qualifications, but sometimes that just wasn’t going to happen. For better or worse, being underway as he was right now meant that his focus wasn’t split between wanting to be at home and wanting to get qualified as quickly as possible.

A quick breakfast of cereal in the wardroom and he was making his way down to one of the repair lockers when the claxon started sounding. Over the 1MC the call for General Quarters and all men to their battlestations roared.

All around him, the ship was a hive of excitement, men running and gearing up. Outside of the alarm, it was oddly quiet. Everyone knew that there were no drills scheduled for today which meant, well, it meant that this wasn’t a drill. It didn’t matter what the issue was, the ship and her sailors were going to be ready.

As he was moving towards Repair 2, he saw one of the other junior officers heading in the opposite direction, likely towards his own space down in engineering. “Walker, what’s going on? Have you heard anything from the bridge?”

“Fuck, you didn’t hear? We are under attack.”

“What the hell? Someone shot at us? I didn’t think there were any ships in the area? We are too far out for it to be land based,” Spencer 

“No, not the ship, the US! Someone just attacked New York City and Washington DC! America is under attack, Reid!” With that announcement, Walker sped off to get to his own position. Spencer was frozen with shock in the middle of the passage.

He didn’t know how long he stood there but it couldn’t have been long as another sailor passing through jostled him into the bulkhead wall, the feeling of cold metal digging into his side was enough to wake him up. He hurried through to the repair locker and settled himself into his role. At this point his actions were pure muscle memory, his mind was too caught in the whirlwind of questions to direct any physical actions. 

Spencer wasn’t sure if time was racing or had slowed to an absolute crawl. All he knew was that he was simply going through the motions. With no more information that what he had learned en route to his battle station, he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking through the most terrifying of possibilities. Who had attacked the US? What kind of attack? How had they even gotten close enough to the eastern seaboard to attack those cities without being intercepted? Was it a nuclear attack? Had any other city been attacked? Were they at war now? 

Eventually, the call to general quarters was ended. The ship was still on high alert, but it was giving the sailors a chance to take a breath, regroup, and recover. Spencer looked blearily towards the sound of the announcement. Now that the immediate action was over, he was exhausted and confused. He wasn’t sure if he should go straight to his stateroom and collapse or try to find someone who knew what was going on. The choice was taken from him as all officers were called to the wardroom. 

Opening the door to the wardroom, Spencer quietly slid across the room to get a cup of coffee. He picked out his mug from the wall and turned to the coffee maker, noting absently that the pot was blessedly full which meant that someone had been tending it during this whole event. After a sip of far too hot and too strong coffee, he finally looked around to see what was happening. He didn’t need to ask why, it was obvious the reason that they had all been called together. The captain was at the other end of the room, looking as exhausted as all of the other men standing around. 

The hatch opened one more time, letting in the last of the officers not on watch, and the captain began to speak. “Men, earlier today, the United States of America was attacked by middle eastern terrorists. Civilian aircraft were hijacked and flow into both of the twin towers in New York City. Another plane was flown into the Pentagon in Washington DC and a final plane was forced down in Pennsylvania before it could get to its target. The towers collapsed. Continuity of Operations Plans (COOP) were enacted at the Pentagon.”

Even though everyone had heard some rumors about what had happened, hearing the full extent of the attacks was still a shock to everyone. No one in the room dared break the silence until the captain spoke again. “We are in all but name, at war now.”

At that, the room erupted in chatter, excitement, fear, and curiosity. A single hand, raised wearily by the captain halted the chatter. “At this time there is limited information. For right now, we are being instructed to maintain our current operations. We have set RIVER CITY and will remain that way for the foreseeable future. Work with your sailors to ensure that they understand what that means in regards to speaking with their families back home. OPS, CHENG, XO? Meet me in my stateroom after this. For everyone else, get some food, rest, and make sure your sailors are doing the same. We don’t know what will change or what we will be called to do. Dismissed.”

And that was it. Spencer was officially at war. 

BTBT

The next few days were an absolute blur to Spencer and the rest of the crew. As time went on, the communication black out for the crew was making everyone antsy. What word could be passed from the intel briefings, was shared and reshared amongst the crew. This was one of the few times that embellishment wasn’t necessary, the truth was unbelievable enough. No one could actually believe that New York City had been attacked, that the Twin Towers had fallen. Even more unbelievable was that the Pentagon had also been hit, the very heart of the US military had been struck. The wake of terror and destruction from Pennsylvania to New York and DC had left everyone numb. 

The worst part by far though was that the communication blackout meant that those with family and friends in the area were left wondering. They had no way to reach out to learn if their loved ones were ok or not. The mood aboard the ship was quiet and tense, a few of the older sailors remembered the days of the Gulf War and they were leading their juniors with a grim determination. 

It was a few days later when Spencer again found himself in the wardroom again. He had a plate of dry, yet somehow limp lobster and a charred piece of meat that they referred to on the menu as a steak. The coffee, his 4th cup of the meal, was cradled in his hands. Even the caffeine wasn’t enough to kick start his appetite enough to attempt to eat. He looked up as he heard the door open.

“Walker, Miller,” he nodded at the men who had walked in. They returned the greeting and sat down at the table. “Eating anything?”

Miller looked up blearily at Spencer, “Food? Oh God, no. I don’t think I’ll ever eat again. I’m too tired.”

“What are you doing here then? Go rack out or something and get some rest,” Spencer responded. The idea was highly appealing now that he said it. He couldn’t remember when he had gotten more than a few minutes of sleep. He tried to remember what he had to do today and whether he could catch an hour nap before getting started on his next watch.

Sighing, Walker answered for his friend. “Man, I wish we could. XO is coming down here in a few minutes with an update on something. Out of curiosity what is for dinner?” 

Waving his coffee mug over his meal Spencer said, “Steak and lobster, why?”

“Fuck.”

“I mean it isn’t good, but it isn’t that bad. Don’t you like steak and lobster?” Spencer asked, confused.

Miller lifted his head to glare at Spencer. “Sure, I love a good steak and lobster dinner. I just don’t like it when I’m underway because it means we aren’t going home any time soon.”

Spencer looked at Walker who nodded in confirmation. “Well fuck.”


End file.
